October 1986

Al Seib / Los Angeles Times

Young in concert with his reunited Crazy Horse at the Rosemont Horizon in Chicago. Hilburn covered the event and wrote the following for the Times: Signs of the rejuvenated Neil Young's "garage rock" instincts are seen at every turn on his current U.S. concert tour. Before the start of each show, a vintage Rolling Stones album is played over the sound system. The snarling music is an enduring vinyl definition of the garage-rock style--the kind of raw, spirited rock 'n' roll blasted out by enthusiastic young bands in their makeshift rehearsal rooms. The mural that hangs over the front of the stage as the audience files in adds to the spirit: a painting of a battered garage door, complete with nicks and broken windows. The mural is lifted to reveal oversized items associated with a run-down garage: discarded tires, old license plates, cockroaches. The concert itself--reuniting Young with his fierce Crazy Horse band--takes the form of a rehearsal, complete with such interruptions as an exterminator spraying for bugs, a neighbor complaining about the godawful noise and, finally, a squad car arriving to call the whole thing to a close. This is a risky concept for the 41-year-old musician, because it requires Young to perform with the intensity and desire of a young, hungry musician--or look ludicrous trying to be a garage-rocker. But Young and Crazy Horse live up to the best garage-rock tradition. Their polish and craft certainly distinguish the band from a group of new, aspiring performers, yet they play new and old material with a passion that is frequently inspiring. Young bounces across the stage with the vitality of a cheerleader, then centers himself with a punishingly primal guitar solo.

Young in concert with his reunited Crazy Horse at the Rosemont Horizon in Chicago. Hilburn covered the event and wrote the following for the Times: Signs of the rejuvenated Neil Young's "garage rock" instincts are seen at every turn on his current U.S. concert tour. Before the start of each show, a vintage Rolling Stones album is played over the sound system. The snarling music is an enduring vinyl definition of the garage-rock style--the kind of raw, spirited rock 'n' roll blasted out by enthusiastic young bands in their makeshift rehearsal rooms. The mural that hangs over the front of the stage as the audience files in adds to the spirit: a painting of a battered garage door, complete with nicks and broken windows. The mural is lifted to reveal oversized items associated with a run-down garage: discarded tires, old license plates, cockroaches. The concert itself--reuniting Young with his fierce Crazy Horse band--takes the form of a rehearsal, complete with such interruptions as an exterminator spraying for bugs, a neighbor complaining about the godawful noise and, finally, a squad car arriving to call the whole thing to a close. This is a risky concept for the 41-year-old musician, because it requires Young to perform with the intensity and desire of a young, hungry musician--or look ludicrous trying to be a garage-rocker. But Young and Crazy Horse live up to the best garage-rock tradition. Their polish and craft certainly distinguish the band from a group of new, aspiring performers, yet they play new and old material with a passion that is frequently inspiring. Young bounces across the stage with the vitality of a cheerleader, then centers himself with a punishingly primal guitar solo. (Al Seib / Los Angeles Times)

Young in concert with his reunited Crazy Horse at the Rosemont Horizon in Chicago. Hilburn covered the event and wrote the following for the Times: Signs of the rejuvenated Neil Young's "garage rock" instincts are seen at every turn on his current U.S. concert tour. Before the start of each show, a vintage Rolling Stones album is played over the sound system. The snarling music is an enduring vinyl definition of the garage-rock style--the kind of raw, spirited rock 'n' roll blasted out by enthusiastic young bands in their makeshift rehearsal rooms. The mural that hangs over the front of the stage as the audience files in adds to the spirit: a painting of a battered garage door, complete with nicks and broken windows. The mural is lifted to reveal oversized items associated with a run-down garage: discarded tires, old license plates, cockroaches. The concert itself--reuniting Young with his fierce Crazy Horse band--takes the form of a rehearsal, complete with such interruptions as an exterminator spraying for bugs, a neighbor complaining about the godawful noise and, finally, a squad car arriving to call the whole thing to a close. This is a risky concept for the 41-year-old musician, because it requires Young to perform with the intensity and desire of a young, hungry musician--or look ludicrous trying to be a garage-rocker. But Young and Crazy Horse live up to the best garage-rock tradition. Their polish and craft certainly distinguish the band from a group of new, aspiring performers, yet they play new and old material with a passion that is frequently inspiring. Young bounces across the stage with the vitality of a cheerleader, then centers himself with a punishingly primal guitar solo.